


Chained In the Bastille-Kinktober Day Six (Quefish)

by Blackrayvn



Series: Kinktober [6]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kinktober 2020, Kissing, M/M, Que fish, Roleplay, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: Aziraphale has taken up a past time of reading and learning about different ways to play with sex.Leaving Crowley a note he waits for the stranger to arrive.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Kinktober [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950499
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020





	Chained In the Bastille-Kinktober Day Six (Quefish)

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2020 -Stranger Sex- Quefish
> 
> NSFW at all

**Kinktober Day Six - Stranger Sex**

**Quefish**

Aziraphale woke the following morning; he hadn't needed to sleep since well, forever. The night before had worn him out, he had to admit it wasn't what he expected, and it surely wasn't going to be the last time either.

Next to him was his love, his demon, only God knew how much he adored him. His Crowley, his demon, his everything, and nothing in Heaven or Hell would ever take that away.

Silently getting up, Aziraphale went downstairs to his bookshop, supposed bookshop it was more just his collection from year's past, a museum, a library that wouldn't let you borrow a book but might if the feeling was right, allow you to glance from a distance.

Thinking to himself, Aziraphale grabbed a book he had been studying as of late; humans certainly had the right way of things when it came to carnal pleasures, Aziraphale simply wanted to try them all. Crowley seemed completely and unironically on board for anything.

Picking up his freshly made cocoa, it had to be made, miracle coco just didn't have the same flavor, it was just wrong, and on more than one occasion, the miracle broke the wings off his cup.

Breaking the wings off the cup always made him cringe; he had been through the war, had seen wings being torn; it bothered him immensely. Not to mention the cup was a gift, long since past from Crowley. On a few visits, when Crowley was sent out on some demonic temptations, he would come back with a gift for him.

Crowley was, in fact, nice.

Aziraphale smiled to himself thinking of the recent time when he had called Crowley nice, how he wanted him to kiss him right then and there. Clearing his head with a bit of coco, Aziraphale opened the book to whatever page the book felt like opening too.

Placing his cup back down upon the desk, Aziraphale read where the book opened, eyes widening, a spark igniting and it was decided. Aziraphale wanted to try roleplaying with Crowley. A wicked grin spread from ear to ear with possibilities.

Aziraphale grabbed a quill dipping it in some of his gold-dusted ink, his favorite color, and this occasion he deemed worthy of it.

~AJC  
I have stepped out of the shop; it's yours to get ready in. I located a new delight I wish to partake in. I hope this finds you willing, of course.  
I read it in the book on my desk; please take a moment to read. There is a scrap of parchment that I have written my idea.

All my love,  
AZF~

Aziraphale took hold of his belongings. Looking about the shop, he made sure that everything was understood, no one in, no books to be sold, or borrowed and lastly to let Crowley come and go as he pleased.

Also to make sure Crowley had anything he needed. A shudder and a creak let Aziraphale know that the bookshop was well informed.

Crowley woke sometime later, reaching to his side his warm angel wasn't there. The bedclothes were cold to the touch, opening his eyes, he looked. Nothing, taking a deep breath Crowley knew something was up; he could feel a giddiness from the shop itself.

”Oh angel, what are you up too now. Maybe I should start hiding his ~sex manuals~ away from him.”

Slowly he slithered out of bed; the floor, oddly enough, was warm on his feet. Smiling to himself, Crowley realized his angel made sure he wouldn't get cold feet, as if that wasn't ironic enough.

He was eventually made it to the first floor of the bookshop, which felt more like he had traveled down four staircases to get there.

”How many floors is this shop of his, and why did I never notice? Huh...”

Looking around, he once again found the letter from Aziraphale and the book. Running his fingers over the pages as he read. A growing smirk slowly took residence on an altogether beautiful face; his eyes lit up as he read the extra note.

~My dearest,  
I hope this will be alright and to your liking; I will wait until eight this evening. If you are not okay with this, I will be back for drinks by eight oh five.

All my love, my darling,  
Aziraphale.~

”Well, this wasn't my first, second, or even third idea that Aziraphale would have wanted, but, yeah, let's do this, angel...”

Crowley couldn't contain the butterflies in his stomach as he thought of the possibilities. What could his angel want to do, what era, what moment in all the time they had together would be like this.

Looking around the shop, Crowley unabashedly asked the shop out loud...

”So what does Aziraphale want to do tonight? Pretty sure you know...what is our Angel up too?”

Crowley loved embarrassing the bookshop. It was almost as wonderful as doing the same to his angel. From nowhere, a bag, with very neatly folded clothes, appeared on the couch.

Crowley blinked at the package, slowly he looked around the shop, was Aziraphale still here, watching?

”Oi shop, is the angel still here?”

From Aziraphale's favorite ink pot, the gold stardust floated into the air. In front of Crowley, it spelled out ~No~ in Aziraphale's perfect cursive writing. Crowley looked at it and out around the shop.

”You sneaky bastard. You're telling me you could have just answered my questions?”

~Yes~

”Cheeky bastard.~

Crowley chuckled as he grabbed the clothes from the couch and started the journey back to whatever floor they were on. Apparently, the shop wasn't told to let Crowley use his abilities to move around the floors; he'd have to mention that to Aziraphale.

Upon reaching the said floor, Crowley opened the package on the bed and grinned. He definitely remembered the outfit, and certainly remembered the chains. Crowley's smile became less and less a smile and more along the lines of a hunter finding his prey. Captured prey at that.

Aziraphale had found a tower away from anyone else, had placed enchanting miracles around it, and a quick miracle to recreate the Bastille. Wearing the outfit, he had put so much effort into for Crowley, had let himself be captured all for the sake of having Crowley rescue him.

Albeit, Crowley didn't catch all the hints that he had put out. The top of the line fashion, his shoes! Oh how he loved those shoes, satin, lace, everything was for Crowley and he just took the chains off his wrists. Disappointed didn't cover what Aziraphale felt that day or the decade that followed.

Walking around the towers room, Aziraphale made sure everything was in order, even going so far as to make sure the light from outside lit him just so. Angelically would be the best word, though what he was doing it for, well, that was utterly unangellic.

Looking over himself, Aziraphale gave himself a nervous nod of approval, now as he sat on his little stool in the middle of the room and the light from above cast him in divine light, he grinned, clasping the chains back on.

Now it was up to Crowley, the executioner, his accuser, to show up. Aziraphale couldn't help the giddy wiggle that he and his rear did on that little stool.

Aziraphale waited.

Crowley put on the outfit, thinking of all the things he would do to an angel that had apparently wanted Crowley back then. Not sure why he didn't realize it back then and wishing he had, but now he could see all the things he missed.

He wondered if his angel still thought about times when things could have and should have gone differently. Thinking on that day, Crowley mused what Aziraphale had wanted.

What he had worn was different and was the height of fashion. The shoes, though, even as Crowley thought about them, had to admit were divine. Chains, Aziraphale was chained to the wall. Frivolous miracles? Escaping humans was never considered frivolous it was a necessity.

”That clever bastard and I missed it. I let him go and instead had crepes, no wonder he brings that up, that year, that place.”

Crowley was all the more excited that he was going to be the executioner. What fun, he was good at pretending, role-playing he had to be, that was his job. Tempting and pulling humans this way, and that was how he got his job done; in this case, it was an unknown angel.

Aziraphale was waiting; slowly, his hope was ebbing away. Perhaps Crowley didn't want to do this; mayhaps he picked the wrong moment in time either he picked up his hands and looked at his wrists. A sigh left him as he decided whether or not.....

The door opened, sounds from the outside echoed into the room, sounds that Crowley had heard from the distance. It was the one thing Aziraphale couldn't do; as an angel, he was meant to stop those things, whereas Crowley helped create them, though humans brought most of it on themselves.

Aziraphale looked up to find his executioner far, far more appealing but just as terrifying if not more so. Crowley remembered this clearly, watching and hearing everything from his little seat in the wall.

Crowley started, staying in character even as Aziraphale's horrible attempts at French, you would think by now he would learnt it. As Aziraphale continued, it came to the moment when Crowley had stopped time, this time there was no rescue, this time the executioner was going to take an angel, who had so willingly chained himself to a wall.

Aziraphale continued to try to talk his way out of the chains, away from the tower, it was no use of course. Having had enough, the ~Executioner~ was about to take center stage.

Grabbing Aziraphale by the chains that bound his wrists, Aziraphale stood with a gasp, looking at his executioner's eyes. Crowley hadn't bothered with his sunglasses, they were too new, and if he remembered, the executioner didn't wear them either.

Aziraphale was enthralled, waiting, wanting and Crowley could more than feel it. Walking around Aziraphale, Crowley dragged a single finger along the lacework that adorned the shoulders of Aziraphale's coat, reaching the back of him, Crowley slid his hand into perfect curls.

Crowley realized more and more the effort Aziraphale had gone to for this, but with him. Dragging his thoughts back to the hear and now, he breathed ever so lightly against Aziraphale's neck.

He heard the light gasp, the quiet exhale, leaning closer to Aziraphale's ear, whispering with a warm breath...

”So you like that, do you, traitor?”

A shiver.

”No, no. I do not.”

Crowley grinned widely; this was going to be fun.

”Ahhh, but your breathing mon-ami, gives you away.”

Another whisper, another shiver, gave Crowley the okay to continue.

”What if we made a deal?”

”A deal?”

”Yes, a deal.”

With the last whisper, a brush of lips over sensitive skin behind Aziraphale's ear. The slight moan at the gesture, at the touch, brought pleasure to Crowley; he was rather enjoying this.

”You want to be let go; I can tell you rather enjoy my ministrations. I find that I would love to have you, if not, just for now then, and ill let you go.”

Aziraphale feigned being shocked very well, Crowley almost broke character to make sure. Feeling Crowley's sudden uncertainty, Aziraphale smirked, making certain Crowley caught it before dropping back into character.

”Well, yes, you are rather what I like, and I do wish to leave, but I don't even like you!”

”Oh, you do.”

Crowley slid his hand down the front of Aziraphale, letting his body press against his angels, hearing a hitching of breath, the slowly drawn out slid of Aziraphales arousal, pressing his own against his angels ass. It felt far better than either imagined; Crowley had to hold back a feral growl as he heard the noise his angel made.

”A deal with the devil then?”

”No, just me.”

”Youll free me?”

”Yesss.”

Crowley hadn't meant for the slight hiss to leaving his mouth, but it was a moment when a twitch in his hand from Aziraphale made his mouth water. The hiss started to turn Aziraphale around; need was washing over Crowley.

”Uh-uh, deal or no?”

”Fine deal...”

Crowley tried to ignore how the last word ~Deal~ rolled off Aziraphale's tongue; he could almost feel the want behind it. So if his tongue is that sinful, then maybe Crowley needed to use it.

”I see, so deal it is then mon-ami.”

Aziraphale took note of his breathing, feeling the executioner behind him step away, the hand on him dragging nails lightly over his silk trousers, a needy whimper echoed around the towers room.

”Please have a seat, we’ll leave the chains on, just so you don't get any ideas, yes? Yes.”

Aziraphale listened, sitting on the stool, his wrists still in the chains that bound him to the wall. He watched Crowley ever so carefully as he knelt in front of him; Crowley took his ankle, lifting his knee, a gentle hand slides down his calf, sliding the silken shoe from Azriaphale's foot.

”These are very lovely, but not as lovely as the body they adorn.”

Aziraphale didn't realize how he was melting into Crowley's hands; the executioner won this game. Letting Aziraphale's foot slide through his hand, over his calf, and up Aziraphale's thigh, Crowley saw when he bit his lower lip, the tale-tell sign of want.

Leaning forward, a gentle brush of lips over his worried lower lip had Aziraphale leaning into the kiss. The Executioner was more than willing to oblige, returning the kiss tenfold till Aziraphale was breathless blue eyes blown.

”...and here you said, you didn't like me.”

A mischievous grin danced joyfully across The Serpent of Eden's face. Aziraphale stood up quickly, going for Crowley only to have him spin out of his reach. A hand pressing into his back, pushing Aziraphale into the wall.

”Mhmm, uh-uh, this is how I will do this, little traitor.”

Crowley's words ran over and through Aziraphale, the sound of chains and the sudden spin sent his world off it's axis. An abrupt shove against the stone wall took his breath, the hand at his thigh lifting his leg to hitch on Crowley's hip, a shift found a leg between his.

The shoe dropped to the ground next to Aziraphale, his silk-clad foot of the ground balancing on the shoe, the heel giving him an inch on Crowley, a perfect angle. Lips, tongue, teeth devoured Aziraphale.

This wasn't supposed to be love; it was hard, it was fast, and it was all-devouring. Heat and need filled them both; the idea of not knowing made it better; the fact that it was wrong just tipped the scales.

Crowley tore at the buttons, popping each one-off, not caring though he'd hear about it later. Pants that were quickly dropped off of Aziraphale and chained hands that undid just enough of Crowley's pants to free him, the hard rub against the other's arousal had Crowley lifting Aziraphale leg higher and using his fingers to open him.

”Fuck it...”

Crowley used a miracle opening Aziraphale and pressed inside of him. Noises of keening, Aziraphale let his head fall back against the wall. Moans that Crowley had never heard from his angel bounced off the walls driving him to push that much harder.

”I'm going to fuck you like the traitor you are..”

”Yes, please...”

It was the yes please that broke Crowley; he bottomed out to Aziraphale's calling his name.

A hand quieted his angel.

”Shhh, do you want to get caught?”

”No, no...oh God, please, I cant.”

Crowley smirked, driving in deep and hard, fucking his angel into bliss, nails dragging, clawing, calling out his name, squeezing around his cock sent Crowley over the edge into ecstasy with his angel.

Crowley let Aziraphale down, smirking down at his love before with a snap; he was gone. Aziraphale looked disappointed only to hear Crowley from where he had sat the first time smiling at him.

”Ya know, I really did love that outfit on you, I did notice, especially the shoes, but it was the angel that wore them that had me wanting them.”

With a snap, Aziraphale tidied and sitting on his stool still chained.

”How about if I show what I really wanted to do, Angel.”


End file.
